December 22. “Button, I hope you don’t get bored of the little bits of news I keep dumping on you every now and then.
I mean I may find them interesting but you may not!”
I mean I may find them interesting but you may not!”
“No, I haven’t but I’ve heard the other version sung by Bhimsen Joshi, Pandit Jasraj and a lot of others but not this one.”
“My hair stands on edge every time I hear the song and I can’t help but sing along. They had stopped playing the anthem in cinema halls because people didn’t give it due respect but it is being played once again.”
“I honestly can’t. Another 364 days are over—in the blink of an eyelid!”
“But a lot also happened—both good and bad like every other year. But the approaching Christmas season doesn’t seem exciting. Why do you think it is so?”
“But you have reason to feel that way all the time considering the kind of life you live…”
“I don’t feel a thing being locked up here.”
“Button, give it a week or so and the windows will be up and you will be able to look out, talk to your friends and get hugs and kisses from me and not the flying kind. I just spoke to one of the men on the job and this is what he had to say.”
“How can I see anything being locked up in this dark room?”
“Button, I am extremely sorry but work has started and, hopefully, will get over in some time.”
“I’m obviously here to talk to you a bit and then go to bed.”
“Why are you so late? Did you go somewhere?”
“Each and every one.”
“The news I am going to share with you tonight is that Nata Mullick, a hangman in Kolkata passed away yesterday. He was 83 and was quite a guy. A documentary was made on him.”
“Go to sleep early tonight.”
“Rani got her stitches removed today. The bigger wound is still raw.”
“He seems okay now.”
“He is after he complained to my elder daughter once she got back home from her friend’s place. Men are such kids. So immature.”